That Looks On Tempests
by Jezrael the Jealous
Summary: Two years after the defeat of Melbu Frahma, darkness calls. The famous Dragon Knights must rise, though they would rise incomplete. I suck at summaries! ^.^ *Chapter 1 Up*
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: Mmkeh. This is my first fanfic. Be nice, oh please. ::Big eyes.:: Oh, and this is just the prologue.. so it's gonna be *short*. Still, review, please? Helpful criticism accepted.. encouragement needed! Oh, and thanks to my beta, Nett! She supports me! n.n  
  
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING you recognize from the games. Though, I am currently working on a letter to the Playstation Game Team that *might* give me ownership of one of the jades.. Wish me luck!  
  
Summary: All was well after the last confrontation with Melbu Frahma. Endiness lay at peace, more than willing to forget the wars and catastrophies that had befallen them. The Dragoon Spirits have become dormant, useless... Yet now, only two years after the Last Battle, their ancient magic stirs. The Dragoon Knights must rise once again. But they would stand incomplete... for what of Fire and Darkness?  
  
~ That Looks On Tempests... by Jezzy  
  
--Prologue--  
  
The plains of Serdio stretched on toward the dark horizon, emerald fields waiting longingly for summer's beloved breath. The glorious mountain range that ran through the country stood out from the grasslands like the great, black teeth of a monster pouncing down from the moon, closing it's maw around the world. Summer had better come swiftly, one might think, or that enormous black beast will devour Endiness before it saw the kiss of renewal again...  
A scream echoed into the night, piercing the serene silence of Indels Castle. The radiance of astrology poured from under that particular door and shot out the windows, drawing no attention from sleeping Bale but that of a drunken peasant, who did little but gawk and sway. The guards that stood vigilant outside of the Royal Chambers pounded on the locked doors and sent a groggy young man to fetch the king.  
"Get him here quickly! The Queen may be hurt!" And the fretting servant fled.  
Words of warning, images of evil flooded the golden head of Emille. The Queen of Serdio stood stiffly beside a great, luminous blue orb which dainty fingers grasped. Her head was thrown back, eyes wide and vacant, mouth gaped in an endless cry of terror. The stars spoke to the Queen of Serdio in their usual whispering chorus, delivering a prophetic curse to her mind. She was deaf to the vain drumming of fists at her door, and the thunderous banging that followed soon after.  
Then, as abrupt as the vision began, it stopped. Emille, drained and convulsing, collapsed to the floor just as the door splintered and gave way, admitting a regal young man, whose mane of ashen gold was disheveled from the exertion necessary to shatter the oaken doors. Albert knelt beside his wife, concern and fear clouding hazel eyes.  
"Emille!" He cried, his voice trembling. Hands just as unsteady brushed mussed strands of pale hair from the woman's face. Emille was white as snow, her skin sheened with sweat. The knights were speaking to him.. of this he was barely aware. He struggled to regain control and checked for a pulse, which he found to be dangerously faint. He scooped his queen up in his arms, barking, "Someone with sense fetch Minister Noish!"  
King Albert laid his bride on the bed and sat near, dwarfing her petite hand in his own, his other hand caressing the searing skin of her forehead.  
"I beg you, Powers Above," he murmered pleadingly. "Don't rip my heart from me..."  
  
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That's the beginning.. it sucks, doesn't it?! ::Wails!:: Oh, please tell me if I should continue, or just abandon it! I'm insecure! ::Rambles.:: 


	2. The Blossom Festival

^.^ It doesn't suck, huh? Kay! I guess I'll continue. Oh yeah.. I have a question for yall. Is there a way for italics and keeping spaces in that I don't know about? I'm new to FF.net..  
  
Freefall Insanity: O.O OMG! I read your stories! You're my hero! Thanks for reviewing.. and, yeah, the chapters are longer. LoL.  
  
SorsX: Yeah, longer is better.. XD I'll work on it.  
  
Aerena: You lie. Heh. Yeah, I'm going to continue it. Keep reviewing, and I guarantee I will. ^.~  
  
~~~~~~~ Chapter One: The Blossom Festival  
Morning broke, mist rising at sunlight's first touch to play in the grass. A breeze fluttered briskly through waking Bale, toying with brightly colored banners and ribbons and sheets. A surprising amount of people were already out and about-- some native, most foreign. The signs of various merchants from Lohan were being lifted to the sky, tents and booths were being constructed. It was a day of celebration, dance, song, and, of course, the gathering of gold.  
The food venders were lighting up their ovens and wishing the air to waft the fragrance of muffins and hotcakes to the noses of shrieking children that dashed from their houses, all in pajamas, sleep fleeing from their eyes. Mothers called sternly and commanded them to wash and dress before they could go into the lonely streets that would soon be swarming with activity.  
Soon enough, everything was set. Traders waited eagerly behind their countertops, showing off articles of exotic jewelry and bolts of silk to the steadily growing amount of passersby. A magician twirled silver coins through the air and plucked one from a passing little girl's ear, who giggled and clapped in glee. Despite a whisper of ill about the Queen, the people of Serdio and elsewhere would not let there spirits be dampened.  
The Blossom Festival wasn't just a pretty name for a lovely spring day. To add the playful hues of dancers' and performers' tents, the trees that lined the cobblestone roads burst into blooms of fiery orange and scarlet, scenting the air sweetly.  
Emille inhaled and smiled. Her smile was a wistful one. From her bed near the window she could hear the singing and laughing. She wanted to go down there, to see the items that were entirely too expensive and ultimately useless, to talk to the people of Tiberoa that she knew were there, but, most of all, to watch the gypsies dance, as she did the past two years.  
"Darling," came a soft voice. Emille turned to her husband and smiled in her usual, graceful manner. He was poking his head inside the door, worry and affection in his woodland gaze. He left the doorway and padded softly to her side, where he leaned over and kissed her forehead. "How are you feeling?"  
"I told you, I feel fine," Emille responded evenly. "I've had a couple ill turns with astrology before," she explained, hoping her husband would have a change of mind.  
Albert's lips pressed into a straight, knowing line. Emille sighed and returned her dark blue eyes to the streets below. "You are wicked to cage me in the castle today of all days," she said, her voice just above a whisper. The King just shook his head.  
"The Tiberoans down there would lynch me if they discovered that I've let you fall sick," he teased, earning only a halfhearted laugh from his wife. "Besides, the festival is silly. However, upon observing that you, my dear, are also silly, I decided not to part you from it entirely."  
Emille snapped her gaze in his direction, trying to read her husband's serious face. What was that supposed to mean?  
Albert's emotionless expression vanished into a grin as he went to the door and flung it wide. In pranced two gypsy girls, laughing and singing. One, a girl of no more than eighteen beat a tambourine on her hip, a daring smile lighting her tanned face. The second was twirling multicolored scarves around her, one like night and the other day. She was pale white as snow, but shared her friends hair color-- like aged wine. The one with the scarves sang wondrously as the other flitted about like a merry fae.  
"Glum was the morn I found her there, Sitting 'lone 'pon thither chair, To what her fair mind wander -- where? Ah, fair gazelle of Serdio!  
  
"Down vale, to mountain, through harbor- lo! A serene siren near waterfront? Oh! No, dear queen of grace undimming, Tell us where your thoughts are swimming!  
  
"Bright was the day I spied her there, Dancing round, the sun in her hair. I beg always able to find her where The songbirds compose in Serdio!"  
Emille was laughing and clapping to the rhythm of the tambourine. Albert's heart lifted immeasurably. Despite his foolery and teasing, Albert was very concerned. He didn't want danger to lurk anywhere near his beloved. Now, watching her sway and giggle, he felt as if those shadows of danger had sulked from her presence.  
The gypsy ladies ceased their twirling and curtsied, their lighthearted laughing not ceasing until they threw their scarves to the floor in an explosion of indigo and scarlet smoke. The last of the crimson- tressed girls Emille glimpsed was a wink from the pale one's impossibly violet eyes and a the flare of fun in the other's golden ones. The clouds dissipated quickly, leaving odor nor gypsies behind.  
"I'd love to know how they do that," sighed Emille dreamily. A quick cry of "Don't!" made Albert laugh as he closed his mouth. He had been ready to explain just how the girls had pulled off their so-called magic. "You'll ruin it for me always!" She scolded.  
"All right, then," he retorted with a smirk, "live forever in your world of ignorance and childish fantasies, if that is what you want." The humor then left his face as he took her hand in his and pressed a kiss against her palm. "Rest now, darling. Recover your strength. I have to meet with my old friends."  
"Are you so sure they are coming?" Questioned Emille, who laid back against her pillows, which Albert had fussily fluffed seconds earlier. "They would have a long way to travel."  
"Oh, yes, and I don't know about her fiance," replied Albert as he opened the door to leave, "but Shana wouldn't miss the Blossom Festival even if Dart broke both of his legs back in Seles." And with that he bid his wife peaceful rest.  
  
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Lord, that was -still- short.. oh well! I'm working on it, I'm working on it! More familiar faces arrive in the next chapter.. including two wingles you all *might* know.. ~.^ 


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